


Hot Lunch Delivery Service

by ahunmaster



Series: Office AU [107]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Embarrassment, F/M, Fluff, Het, Human, Kissing, Making Out, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahunmaster/pseuds/ahunmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bloodshed comes to Thornstriker's university to bring her lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Lunch Delivery Service

Thornstriker had been having a normal day; driving to the Academy, holding her classes, and looking over papers as usual.  Except something happened around lunch that was new.  
  
She had been quite surprised to see her husband walk into her office with a prepared lunch.  To be truthful, in all the years they had been together, this was the first time he had ever brought her lunch he had made.  Usually it was the other way around, even though Bloodshed had told her countless times that she didn't have to and that he didn't want her to come to his workplace.  Sure, he had come sometimes to visit, but it was often because he was working somewhere close by and they hadn't seen each other for a while.  
  
But today... they had seen each other just yesterday!  He had just had today off for some reason (or a miraculous occurrence of events, as he put it) and she hadn't woken him up this morning because she wanted him to enjoy a weekday sleeping in.  But Primus, just seeing him trying to shrug off his embarrassment as he gave her a wonderful lunch of steamed chicken and rice.  He had come all the way from home on his day off to bring her a hot lunch!  
  
Thornstriker had been so overwhelmed with emotions, surprised and embarrassed and happy and loved and comforted, she couldn't control her blush and her voice letting out a little squeak... or something.  Whatever it was, Bloodshed had come around the desk, worried about her since he had rarely seen her this overwhelmed.  But before he could finish his question, she had already thrown her arms around her neck to give him a kiss.  A thank you for doing something so sweet for her.  
  
Well, after the first one, the mood had been so charged already that she didn't resist when he leaned down for a second.  
  
Or a third.  
  
And then several times more after that.  
  
So, about twenty minutes later, her lunch was still set on the other side of her desk, surprisingly still warm due to the container Bloodshed had brought it in (a gift from Thornstriker, who wanted to make sure he could eat a hot dinner even when he had to leave before he could finish eating it) as they were making out heavily at her desk.  
  
Thornstriker had somehow moved from standing up to sitting in her chair to now sitting on the top of her desk; her lips red and puffy, hair starting to fall out of her bun, shirt a little loose and open, and her legs wide and opened with her husband stuck firmly between her hot thighs.  Bloodshed was about the same appearance wise, plus his shirt having been pushed up a _teensy_ bit just so his ripped abs could be caressed by her wandering fingers.  
  
It should have occurred to them both that they were in her office.  That they were risking getting caught.  And possibly getting Thornstriker fired, but most likely just very embarrassed and becoming the talk of the campus for a good week.  But it didn't occur to them, not in any sense.  
  
That was until Bloodshed's hands started groping her breasts as he leaned them back to lie on her desk.  A small stack of papers, unnoticed before, were pushed off the desk.  The sound of them scattering across the floor snapped them both out of it.  Thornstriker was the first to realize what was going on and what they had nearly just done.  
  
"Oh Primus, oh Primus, what were we-?"  
  
"T-Thornstriker?"  Bloodshed sounded as if he had also been in some sort of trance, blinking as if he had just woken up.  
  
"Oh Primus, we're in my office.  Oh Primus..."  
  
Realizing what was going on, Bloodshed quickly pulled back to give her room to sit up and fret.  He knew how Thornstriker hated to do this, especially in public.  True, he had had fantasies about doing her in her office here, but he knew she would probably never allow it, being too shy as she was.  Of course, he wouldn't say no if she asked him to do it.  But for now, he knew it was time to stop despite his little friend getting a bit hot.  
  
"I'm sorry, oh Primus, I'm sorry Bloodshed, I should have-!"  
  
"It's fine.  We... just let the moment get to our heads."  
  
"Right, right."  Fixing herself up while her husband did the same, they quickly fixed up her desk and the room to erase the evidence of what had just happened, minus their still slightly puffy lips and somewhat disheveled appearance.  
  
"Uh... th-thank you for bringing me lunch.  Even though it was your day off..."  
  
"It was nothing.  I mean, you've done it for me plenty of times before.  I figured I should do it at least once when I had the chance to."  
  
"T-Thank you."  
  
But as she turned to open her lunch, she was surprised by Bloodshed's hand coming up to hold her chin.  She did not expect him to pull her into one last sweet kiss.  
  
"When you come back for dinner tonight, I'll make you something you like.  After all, I didn't finish giving you your whole lunch."  
  
Thornstriker nodded before she froze as her brain finally figured out what he was saying.  
  
"Wha-?'  
  
"And trust me when I say you're gonna love dessert tonight.  I guarantee you'll be coming back for seconds."  
  
Feeling her head turning tomato red again, the petite professor watched as he gave her a lustful look before he actually _sauntered_ out of her office.    
  
Primus, she was the luckiest wife in the world.


End file.
